


"Let me just slip into something more comfortable."

by vktorkatsuki (ayna222)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Katsuki Yuuri in Lingerie, Lingerie, M/M, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties, Strippers & Strip Clubs, should I be concerned that that was in the top ten tags?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-04-26 16:04:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14405637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayna222/pseuds/vktorkatsuki
Summary: “Well, Vitya? Don’t you want to come and kiss your gold?”In which Yuuri is a little shit who deserves all the crazy Phichit and Chris throw at him during his and Victor's bachelor party. A.K.A How to break your fiancé 101 (and how to react when he gets his inevitable revenge).





	"Let me just slip into something more comfortable."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone in the 18OI server for being AMAZING, and to Bren especially for calling me out on my BS. You guys are the best and I'm so glad I met you!

The first time it happens, Yuuri isn’t entirely sure what he’s doing. He’s still riding the high from  _ actually winning the Four Continents.  _ Him! He still feels the adrenaline rush of having smashed through record-setting score after record-setting score dancing through his veins, the weight of the gold medal around his neck. It’s a heady feeling, this confidence, better than any drug he’s seen his frat boy friends gleefully pass around, or any stress-fueled bender he’s had the pleasure of forgetting. It feels like he can use words like “talented” in the same sentence as his name—like pretty much every article that has come out over the past couple weeks, much to Yuuri’s simultaneous dismay and joy.

More importantly, it feels for the first time in his life like he’s accomplished enough to deserve an actual  _ nice thing.  _ A tangible thing, more permanent than victory katsudon. Thoughts on the topic had crossing his mind for a while now, but it’s not until one random off day, as he and Victor wait for a TV commercial break to end, that he realizes exactly how to put his new impulses to good use. 

The ad is an old one; Yuuri usually just changes the channel (he doesn’t really have a use for this  _ particular _ product). This time, however, things are different. This time, Yuuri feels Victor’s heart skip a beat or two from where he’s snuggled up close to his chest. He hears his soft gasp and sees him stare almost through the screen at far away images—or memories?—only he can see. 

Yuuri pushes himself up, closer to Victor’s face. “Are you all right, Vitya?” 

A second later, Victor pulls himself out of his daze and smiles down at him, warm and soft. “I’m fine, _dorogoy,_ just got a little lost in thought. Good thing I have you to come and find me again,” he replies, and pulls back down. 

The moment’s gone as quickly as it begins, but as he absentmindedly presses gentle kisses to Victor’s throat, the seeds of an idea plant themselves firmly in Yuuri’s head. 

The next day, after they get back from their morning jog and Victor leaves again for his training at the rink, he finds himself in a position he hadn’t anticipated being in at any point in his life—shopping online for  _ lingerie. _ Yuuri’s closed the browser window four times already, but the thought of Victor’s flushed face and heated gaze keeps drawing him back to his search. The images on the screen splash across his senses. He licks his lips and continues to scroll down.

A product near the bottom catches his eye; he clicks. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t! Could he? Would Victor even like it?  _ I don’t feel like kissing it if it isn’t gold… _ the sound of Victor’s gentle voice drifts through his head yet again, a lingering tease even now, months after the fact, after he’d actually won a gold medal. Yuuri smirks. This set is exactly what he needs. He spends a few minutes trying to figure out how exactly the absurd sizing chart the site “conveniently” provided works before picking one of the larger options at random. A final check, and he’s made the purchase before he can lose his nerve. Done.

A couple of days later, Yuuri skips his usual after-dinner walk with Victor and Makkachin, instead using that time to set up for the night. He pulls out the innocuous white package he had quickly signed for earlier and tears it open, revealing the potentially volatile material waiting inside. Of course, Yuuri hadn’t anticipated just how hard it would be to put on some fancy underwear. It takes him twenty minutes to figure out how a garter works, not to mention how to tightly tie a corset on entirely on his own, but finally the ensemble is complete. 

_ ‘Come home. I have a surprise for you.’ _ he texts Victor. Yuuri knows his instant-gratification fueled fiancé won’t be able to resist seeing what’s in store for him, and the string of excited emoji faces and hearts that immediately follows merely confirms the fact. Yuuri’s eyes flick up towards the clock at the top of the screen—he’s got a little while until Victor gets back.

Grabbing some gel, he slicks his bangs back in that dramatic look his fiancé so adores, and checks his appearance over one more time.  _ Not bad, Katsuki.  _ He removes his glasses, puts them somewhere safe (knowing Victor, they were just going to get thrown somewhere after being pulled off his face, and he doesn’t particularly want to look for them after good sex, okay?), and hops onto the bed, arranging his limbs as artfully has he can. Another check—still plenty of time—and he finally stretches out to plug his phone in on the bedside table. 

The shimmery-sheer fabric of his new purchase caresses his skin as he moves, leaving strange—but not wholly unpleasant—tingles in its wake. A good start, certainly, but not quite enough. Yuuri drags a lazy hand up his thigh, drawing incomplete swirls and spirals as it journeys higher and higher, chuckling a little as he realizes he’s mapping out his Eros routine. The slip-slide of the stockings is less prominent here, closer to the garters, but the brush of the lace against his sensitive skin sends the blood rushing down to his groin. His hand drifts still further up, stopping finally to press firmly against the growing wet spot on the front of his panties.  _ Fuck,  _ did he get hard quickly. 

He groans loudly, involuntarily pressing his head back against the soft pillows of the spacious bed he shared with Victor. The stretch pulls his already tight corset even more tightly against his torso; a sinful pressure.  _ This was a terrible idea, wasn’t it?  _ he laments, panting lightly as his fingers pull against the waistband of his undergarments.  _ This is going to be over before it even begins, damndamndamn _ —

He hears a soft gasp come from the general direction of the door. “ _ D-der’mo, _ Yuuri!” cried Victor. 

Yuuri loves it when he makes his fiance forget how to speak English.

Without his glasses, Victor’s face is a blur of gentle pastels. Still, it’s clear that he’s leaning heavily against the door frame, searching for support. Yuuri can imagine the shock on his face and the pink in his cheeks. He shoots his fiancé the steamiest look he can muster under the, ah,  _ pressing _ circumstances.

“Well, Vitya? Don’t you want to come and kiss your gold?” The whimper that escapes his beloved is answer enough, and he grins blindingly as Victor stumbles towards their bed, shedding his shirt and nearly tripping over his pants in his hurry to tug them off. 

Normally, Yuuri likes to undress him slowly, to kiss along the lines of lean pecs and firm abs as he unbuttons his shirt one by one. He likes to pull off Victor’s trousers languidly, drive him crazy with the lightest of strokes against the bulge in his boxer briefs, to see him writhing against the satin sheets, begging in incoherent Russian before finally going the extra mile and swallowing him down. But in his current state he is thankful for his Vitya’s impatience. He spreads his legs wide, and Victor slots himself comfortably in between: a fit so perfect Yuuri still can hardly believe that it’s real. 

They let out identical low moans at the first press of his hardness against Yuuri’s growing erection. “Careful, you don’t want to ruin my pretty new things, especially not after I got them just for you,” he teases. Victor merely lets his eyes travel up and down Yuuri’s body, still seemingly in shock, before responding.

“Oh,  _ solnyshko, _ you’re too good to me. Look at how nicely you’ve wrapped yourself up. Such a pretty, pretty present,” he coos, and licks a long, wet line along the upper lacy edge of Yuuri’s shimmering, golden corset. 

Yuuri flushes as Victor mouths his way up his chest to the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder, brushing caresses up and down Yuuri’s sides all the while. He nearly screams from the exquisite pleasure-pain as he sucks a big, red mark  _ right there oh God yesyesyes— _ Yuuri doesn’t realize he’s babbling nonsense out loud as Victor; after pressing a soothing kiss to the bruise he’d just made, moves his way upward leisurely, leaving a trail of loving attention along Yuuri’s neck and under his jaw. 

Much to Yuuri’s frustration, Victor stops short of his lips, pulling back just enough to admire the mess he’s made. All Yuuri knows is the  _ blueblueblue _ of his eyes, all he can think to do is drown in the adoration he sees in his gaze. He barely registers the sound of Victor’s voice as he whispers sweet nothings. “My beautiful, perfect  _ zolotse. _ What did I ever do to deserve you?” 

Yuuri raises a hand to cup Victor’s cheek, smiling warmly as he leans instinctually, desperately into Yuuri’s touch. He drags the tips of his fingers along Victor’s jawline, down and around, scratching delicately at the nape of his neck, making him gasp. He pushes himself up a little until he can feel his breath against his lips.

“I ask myself the same question every day,” he murmurs softly before using his leverage to pull Victor’s lips to his own in a searing kiss. Victor responds just as passionately, grabs at Yuuri desperately, and pushes him back onto the bed with enough force to bounce back off a little bit. His hands find the corset laces as he licks into Yuuri’s mouth, and with a couple of tugs all of the hard work that went into putting that thing on is wasted (not that he’s complaining, the feel of Victor’s soft skin against his more than makes up for the loss). 

“Ah,  _ Viten—”  _ Victor breaks the kiss and groans loudly at the sound of the private, intimate pet name Yuuri only used in the heat of the moment “— _ Vitenka,  _ please! If you keep going the way you are I’m not going to last much longer!” Victor smirks in response.

“Is that so? Well then, I’d better get to work.” He drags a finger down the now obscene wet patch in Yuuri’s panties, and the heat in his touch sets Yuuri ablaze.

 

* * *

 

The second time it happens, Yuuri wants to say that he never expected Christophe and Phichit betraying him like this, but to be quite honest he’d passed surprised a few stations back and is now getting off at “affectionately resigned”. Introducing them to each other was a terrible idea. It figures that they, instead of fighting for the spot of “#1 Best Man”, would end up bonding instantly over  _ cat memes  _ and dedicating the rest of their lives to finding creative ways to destroy Yuuri’s. And it certainly figures that they, being the self-declared Supreme Overlords of parties and social media respectively, would throw what was going to be (if the way they kept looking at each other and giggling a little as they blindfolded Victor was any indication), the Bachelor Bash of the Century.

Yuuri tried to breathe deeply as they blocked out his vision as well—Phichit had explained that they were trying to keep the event as much of a surprise as possible—and herded him into the limo they had rented (because apparently, just because they couldn’t see anything didn’t mean they didn’t have to ride in style).

The first part of the night turned out to be a much more pleasant surprise than Yuuri had anticipated. Phichit and Chris had managed to reserve the entirety of Yuuri and Victor’s favorite local restaurant for a few hours, and convinced each of their friends and rivals to bring their favorite dish from home, potluck style, to serve as dinner. Even Mari had shown up for some embarrassing story-telling—much to the delight of anyone not named “Victor” or “Yuuri”—before heading back to her hotel. 

There’d been some surprisingly tame dancing (except for when Yurio and Otabek had decided to work out a minor argument on the dance floor and ended up break dancing across everyone’s Instagram feeds), some surprisingly limited drinking, and some not-so-surprisingly delicious food from both home and abroad, including the return of Yurio’s grandfather’s absolutely  _ genius  _ katsudon pirozhki (he still had to get that recipe somehow). It wasa heart-warming reminder of just how many people cared about them, and Yuuri and Victor had made sure to thank each and every athlete who had taken the time out of their training to do this for them personally. 

Of course, the assumption that this was all there was to be of the night was too good to be true, as soon enough the younger members of Victor and Yuuri’s immense wedding party (they had a hard time picking favorites) are sent home, and the rest of the group files out of the restaurant to a waiting parking lot full of cars. Phichit and Christophe each approach their respective man of the hour, blindfolds in hand, and Yuuri resigns himself to a night spent trying to not to mom friend the heck out of the best figure skaters in the world just so all of his groomsmen don’t show up to his ceremony too hungover to function. 

“And now, the real fun begins!” he hears Christophe announce.  _ Yikes. _

“Heck yeah it does! Trust me Yuuri, even  _ you’re _ going to like this next bit!” responds Phichit. 

The slap of a particularly enthusiastic high five echoes through the limo, and Yuuri feels the familiar round smoothness of a wineglass pressed into his hand. He takes a quick sip—whoever chose the refreshments had incredibly good taste—then puts the glass on the floor beside him. He wants to remember this night, thank you very much. 

Victor, on the other hand, seems to be inclined to do the opposite if Christophe’s cheers are anything to go by. That damn near perfect Russian totally could get away with blacking out the day before his wedding too; he never seemed to get hungover for more than a minute, no matter how hard anyone had tried to drink him under the table the night before. 

Thankfully Victor isn’t given much of a chance to get any more wasted, since the limo finally pulls to a stop in front of what sounds like a club, if the bass that’s wreaking havoc in Yuuri’s chest is any indication. Phichit and Christophe walk them inside before whipping off the blindfolds with a flourish and— _ Jesus Christ soaking in a hot spring who the  _ hell  _ thought this was a good idea?  _ They’re in a strip club, for crying out loud! 

Yuuri spots their enthusiastically cheering group of friends around the mainstage area, and prays that the rest of the small crowd isn’t made of up any fans. Still, the current dancer’s routine was good, if not a little rudimentary in Yuuri’s opinion, and he can see plenty of tables further away from the festivities towards the back of the club too, where a few skaters were chatting amiably in the relative silence. He tries to keep an open mind as he adjusts to the flashing lights and pulsing music.

Phichit leads Yuuri to a low, well-padded chair right in front of the main stage before seating himself to his immediate right. It seems the current dancer has taken a liking to Georgi, because he’s pulling him up on stage and letting him take a turn on the pole, posing together for a cheering Mila and her frantically flashing iPhone. Surprisingly, neither this dancer nor the next makes any move to approach Yuuri despite his proximity to the stage, opting instead to try to coax singles out of a laughing JJ and blushing Michele. Yuuri shoots a quizzical glance at Phichit, who leans over and mutters “We asked them not to bother you; I want this to be a night to remember in a good way.” Yuuri mentally regifts Phichit the previously rescinded title of “best smol ever ”. Maybe this wasn’t so bad? Everyone did seem to be having a good time.

Just then, as the latest dancer makes their exit, the music comes to a surprising halt. Phichit hops out of his chair and clambers onto the stage, grabbing a proffered microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen!” he begins, with the enunciation of a practiced emcee. “How’re you all doing tonight?” 

Yuuri resists plopping his head into his hands in second-hand embarrassment as Phichit silences the now roaring crowd. 

“As some of you may know, today is a very special day for a dear friend of mine, who has decided to take the plunge and, you heard it here first folks,  _ settle down. _ Everyone give it up for Yuuri Katsuki!” 

A small spotlight illuminates his chair, and he blushes bright red at the near-deafening cheers. Wait, why hadn’t Phichit introduced Victor too? And come to think of it, where  _ was  _ he? 

Yuuri’s not given the time to worry before Phichit continues, “I’m sure the man of the hour has finally stopped freaking out long enough to wonder where his fabulous fiancé ran off to. Well Yuuri, he’s planned a special treat just for you tonight! Presenting without further ado, in his debut performance, Victor Nikiforov!” 

Yuuri just barely restrained himself from groaning audibly at the announcement, which was met with thunderous applause. Trust Victor to decide to become the entertainment for his own bachelor party. 

The room goes pitch black for a moment as the ambient lights are turned off before a single, bright spotlight illuminates the stage and [the music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=102&v=VCLxJd1d84s) starts up again. The click of high heels  _ (oh my god what) _ announces Victor’s arrival as he struts out in time to the music like he had been doing this all his life instead of skating. He lets his hips sway seductively as he makes his way to the main stage and Yuuri can’t help but follow them with his eyes before moving his gaze upward. 

Victor has shed all but the shirt he was wearing and opted instead for a pair of sheer, silvery thigh highs. They glitter enticingly under the lights, but it’s something about the silhouettes Victor’s making as he poses that is leaving Yuuri loosening his tie and tugging at his collar in an attempt to alleviate the sudden heat wave that seems to have overtaken the room. Victor must be feeling it too, since he chooses that moment to start unbuttoning his shirt, little by little. As he reaches the main stage, he makes a sudden about face, and lets one sleeve of his fully unbuttoned shirt slide off his shoulder. He shoots Yuuri a smouldering look, and slowly takes the rest of the shirt off to unveil...oh my goodness.

Victor’s managed to find himself one of the silkiest, skimpiest pieces Yuuri has ever seen. The sheer silver sheen of the lacy, delicate top is only broken by the elegant fractal patterns snaking their way across his chest and down his abs. It’s...magnificent, to say the least.

Victor turns once more and continues to make his way downstage, grabbing the pole once he gets within arm’s reach of it. He grinds down once, throwing his head back in apparent pleasure, and with practiced ease swings his body up, sliding back down into an aptly named Russian Split. He pauses there for a moment, giving Yuuri ample time to admire the shine of the fabric.

Victor is a dramatic collection of sharp lines and smooth curves, a walking oxymoron (a living surprise) and Yuuri loves him all the more for it. With each sultry stretch, each swooping spin, Yuuri feels his pants grow that much tighter. A sudden loud whoop from Sara brings him back to reality, and he’s thankful for the dim lighting as he flushes bright red. It’s a wonder he was able to forget his surroundings, but then again Victor has always been able to make him feel like the only person in the world. 

As the final chorus plays, Victor finally hops off the pole, but instead of making his way around the stage like the other dancers. Sliding down to the main floor gracefully, he walks purposefully towards Yuuri instead and settles down gracefully on his lap. Yuuri lets out a frustrated whine as adventurous fingers pull his necktie loose.

“Come find me when I’m done,  _ solnyshko. _ I’ll be waiting,” he hears, whispered into his ear. The lights blink off once more, and Victor presses a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth before Yuuri feels him slide off and away. He’s gone before the lights come up again.

Yuuri follows him as Chris makes some sort of announcement on stage, searching desperately until— _ there!— _ he spots the slightly open door to one of the adjoining side rooms. He pushes his way in to see Victor sitting calmly near the back, checking his phone.  _ No, that won’t do at all.  _ Yuuri rushes forward, grabbing his fiancé and pulling him up, only to pin him firmly against the nearby wall. Victor’s face is the picture of innocence.

“Ah, now what is it that’s got you so worked up,  _ zolotse?" _ Yuuri glares.

“Don’t play dumb with me, mister. Not when I’m trying to decide whether to murder or marry you.” Ugh, but it was hard to even  _ pretend _ to be anything but ridiculously happy when Vitya’s eyes were glinting with mirth and love that only accentuated their beautiful blue.Yuuri felt his resolve crumbling fast.

“Oh, is that all? Well then, isn’t it fortunate for me that we’ve already paid the deposit for the venue. We wouldn’t want anything to go to waste.” Victor’s teasing smile finally breaks him, and he pushes forward into his waiting arms. He strokes his hands along Victor’s sides as lips find lips with the kind of efficiency that only comes with frequent repetition, Victor clutching near desperately at his back all the while. 

Someone moans; there’s no telling who, but Yuuri doesn’t really care, not when he’s nipping at that one spot on Victor’s bottom lip that he knows drives him crazy and Victor’s making  _ that noise, _ the gentle panting whine that lets Yuuri know he’s doing something right. __ Yuuri pulls away to speak, the heat in his stomach only building as he moves, but Victor presses him back against the opposite wall and continues where they left off before he can get a word out.

“Ah, V-victor, wait—” he manages to say as Victor starts working on his neck. He gets his hands on Victor’s shoulders and pushes him back. “Wait.” Victor looks at him with concern.

“Is everything all right? Do you need to stop?” Yuuri just nods at the door.

“We should continue somewhere a little more private, no?” That puts the smile back on Victor’s face.

“I’ll call a cab. And in the meantime...” 

“No, Vitya, put your clothes back on. I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this.” The way Victor’s eyes darken at his words tells Yuuri everything he needs to know. “Now get off me, I’m going to tell Phichit that we’re leaving a little early.” Victor obliges. 

Yuuri tries to straighten himself out as best as he can, before leaving to find Phichit as he’d promised. After a quick scan of the main floor, he sees his best man sitting right where he’d left him by the stage, snapping a photo of Mila and Sara cuddling on the same chair (Mila always was a touchy-feely drunk, not that her girlfriend minds). He approaches and taps Phichit on the shoulder.

“Yuuri! I didn’t expect to see you again until tomorrow! Is everything all right?”

“Everything’s just perfect, Phichit-kun. I just wanted to say thanks. Tonight went way better than I expected.” Phichit smiled up at him and offered a hug which Yuuri happily accepted.

“I’m offended that you assumed otherwise, but still, it was no problem. My best friend in the world deserves the best bachelor party in the world. I take it you’re heading out now?”

“What makes you say that?” 

Phichit’s smile grew a little more mischievous. “Well, you’re more of a mess than usual, and I’m pretty sure that’s Victor waving frantically by the door.” Yuuri looked over his shoulder to where Phichit was pointing. There he was indeed, fully clothed (thank goodness) and grinning ear to ear. It was hard to hear over the thumping bassline of the music, but Yuuri could tell that he was shouting his name. The thought crashed over him like a wave:  _ God, I love this man.  _

“Ugh, get a room before all this tender eye-lovemaking makes me barf.” Phichit groaned.

Yuuri just grinned absently. “Good night, Phichit. I’ll see you tomorrow. Make sure everyone’s ready to go, you hear me?”

“You got it,  _ boss," _ replied Phichit sarcastically. “I’ll catch you up through Instagram later. Now go and let the rest of us have fun!” With that, he shooed Yuuri towards Victor and the door.

The taxi ride back to their apartment is oddly quiet after all the events that night. Yuuri let his thoughts sink into the silence and his gaze float out the window. A hand on his shoulder brings him back to reality.

“What’re you thinking about?” asks Victor, tone fond. Yuuri scoots closer to him, letting his head rest on Victor’s shoulder before responding.

“For once, nothing. Everything is just perfect.”

__________________________________________________________________________

 

He is forced to eat those words a couple days later, when Yakov’s angry call interrupts their honeymoon in Fiji (cause his fian— _ husband _ is cheesy like that and has the money to spare, apparently).

“Just how many likes did Chris’s video get on Instagram?” Yuuri groans as Victor plugs his phone back in on the nightstand by the bed.

“4.5 million, I think?” 

Yuuri shakes his head exasperatedly. “Of course it did.” 

His husband ( _ husband!) _ looks taken aback by the coldness in his words, before something clicks in his mind. “Aw,  _ Yuuri! _ You’re jealous, aren’t you?” 

Yuuri scowls; his husband always read him so easily. He was never gonna get away with anything. “I told you, I didn’t want anyone else seeing you like that.””

Victor’s answering laugh is infectious, and he feels his bad mood vanishing. “You’re so cute when you pout,” he coos, leaning over to boop Yuuri on the nose.

Yuuri decides that now was the time to end this line of thought, and meets Victor in the middle with a quick peck on his lips before he can. “Keep teasing like that, Vitya, and I’ll show you just how cute I can be.” 

Victor’s eyes darken. “Your wish is my command.”

**Author's Note:**

> dorogoy - darling  
> der'mo - shit  
> solnyshko - sunshine (kinda? Best approximation)  
> zolotse - gold
> 
> IDK why I wrote those y'all know all this anyway at this point lol (though feel free to correct my Russian if I did something foolish!). This was written for @yoi-fanbook on Tumblr, but since those books were cancelled I figured it was safe for me to publish this independently! This has been up for a while but has been majorly edited...and also I wrote a summary...which I apparently didn't do the first time...awks...
> 
> Tumblr is dying but feel free to come talk to me at daughterofthewiseone anyway! I'll be here for a while yet :)


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